


A Mind Meant for Speaking

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: (Fenris's in a relationship with Hawke), Background Relationships, Boundaries, Friendship, Gen, Mentions of Slavery, Self-Acceptance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8787790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: “You’re hardly a burden, Fenris. What’s on your mind?”He would hardly get used to that, Fenris thought, silent for another long moment. Years into… being able to call companions just that, and even to call them friend, that was strange enough. To be able to speak freely with those people was even more so. To be able to speak freely about the way he felt on things… that nearly stymied him into inaction.It was… an odd feeling, but not one that he did not appreciate.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GothicPrincessWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicPrincessWitch/gifts).



> This was requested by gothic-princess-witch! If you want to request something from me, you can check it out on my [Tumblr](http://www.cumberbatchcritter.tumblr.com)! Thanks again for the lovely request~
> 
> I do not own _Dragon Age II_. Thanks for reading!
> 
> [Special thanks to @bookwyrmling for the help on wine- I hate the stuff, lol]

The fourth wine of the night was perhaps Fenris’s favourite. It was full-bodied. The tannins weren’t as strong as some he had had before, but it was noticeable. The taste itself, he thought, made up for any other thing it may have lacked.

He had known from the start that this would be a good wine; it was middle-aged and a deep red, and smelled of pepper when he swirled the liquid contemplatively. There was also a scent of something similar to coffee, and something floral… violets, perhaps? He was uncertain.

"This was barrelled in oak, wasn’t it?" his companion inquired to the man behind the counter, and Fenris glanced away from the deep colour of the drink to look at Sebastian. Oak? Yes… he could smell it, if only faintly, he thought, putting his nose subtly over the mouth of the glass again.

Sebastian was far better at discerning the different notes in wine; Fenris was no connoisseur. Sebastian had one day asked if he would like to attend a tasting with him. He had declined at first, but Sebastian would ask regularly, every time there was one. Sometimes it would be once a fortnight, and sometimes it would only be once every month, but Sebastian had politely offered until Fenris had– a little hesitantly– given in.

He had not regretted it. Sebastian’s presence was welcome, and the wine was all the more better for company.

"Well?" Fenris ventured, taking another sip of the wine. It tasted like plums, with a hint of chocolate. Yes, he enjoyed this one the most.

"I think I prefer the honey wine," Sebastian said, setting his glass down, "although I daresay that you enjoy this one?" A small smile in his direction, and a glance to Fenris’s glass.

"I do," he agreed. Finished the glass and set it next to Sebastian’s. He took a step away from the countertop and looked back at the archer as he felt his eyes still upon him. "Yes?"

"Are you going to get a bottle?"

"Tempting." He cast a glance towards the bottles sitting beyond the counter. "But I think I will pass for today."

"Ready to go, then?"

Fenris nodded, bare toes stretching against the hardwood floor. "I am." The only downfall to such events was that it drew quite a few people from Hightown, and while they were generally much more civil than the patrons of the Hanged Man, there were still a fair too many for Fenris’s liking.

Sebastian gestured him out ahead and the elf breathed in the cool night air slowly. Kirkwall did not have a good smell of it, not even in Hightown, but the nights tended to clear the air and Fenris drank it in greedily.

"Do you have any plans for the holidays, Fenris?" Sebastian asked, tugging at his collar. Fenris was tolerant of their night’s coolness, while Sebastian was not so acclimatised.

His eyes followed the movement of the archer’s fingers against his clothing before transferring to meet his curious gaze. "Not particularly. Hawke has something planned, which he hopes that I am a part of."

"Ah, yes. The Hanged Man. I seem to recall the carrier bringing me an invitation." There was only the faintest hint of a frown there, but Fenris caught it all the same.

"I expect that you’ll respectfully decline," he said, his own lips twitching towards a barely there smile.

"I expect I will," Sebastian said with a little laugh. "Give my best wishes to our friends when you attend."

"I will. Although I expect you’ll have to face Hawke’s disappointment on the matter. He is… impossibly enthusiastic."

Maybe too much so for Fenris’s liking, but he wasn’t about to say as much. He had never celebrated Wintersend himself, even while holidays were widely celebrated in Tevinter. Even now, he barely knew what they were meant to be doing for it.

"Is he being horribly overbearing?" Sebastian asked, and Fenris recognized from his voice that he was teasing. "I was under the impression that you handled Hawke’s enthusiasm quite well. Enjoyed it, even."

Fenris huffed. "I enjoy it. But this…" he trailed off, and then shook his head slightly. "I do not wish to burden you with my complaints."

"You’re hardly a burden, Fenris. What’s on your mind?"

He would hardly get used to that, Fenris thought, silent for another long moment. Years into… being able to call companions just that, and even to call them friend, that was strange enough. To be able to speak freely with those people was even more so. To be able to speak freely about the way he felt on things… that nearly stymied him into inaction.

It was… an odd feeling, but not one that he did not appreciate.

"Gifts," he said reluctantly, internally reminding himself that he had just as much right to state his opinions as anyone else. "Hawke mentioned that it’s customary to give gifts to your companions for Wintersend."

"Yes," Sebastian said, folding his hands behind his back. "I was going to ask you what you would like myself."

"Nothing." His response came too quickly; Sebastian looked back at him with an open curiosity and Fenris cursed his quick tongue and how at ease he was with these aforementioned friends. There were some things he did not need mention.

Sebastian would not be content to let that go without a question, though. "I sense there’s more than just being stuck on what to get our companions."

"No. … Yes. That too." Fenris sighed. "It is of no matter."

"It’s of matter to you," Sebastian replied.

How could the man be so unendingly curious and so gentle about his prying at the same time? Hawke had the same kind of curiosity, but sometimes let his needling go too far. (At which time Fenris would tell him that he did not wish to talk about it. Which Hawke respected, once it got through his occasionally thick skull.) Sebastian never did that; he seemed to know when to push and when to stop, and Fenris was more grateful than he would say. He gave him the choice of speaking his mind, and didn’t force him or reprimand him if he wished not. Perhaps it was the part of him that had been trained the Chantry?

And perhaps that was why Fenris could also speak more freely around him than anyone else, even the man he was (sometimes questioningly, the great brute) in love with.

"Slaves do not receive gifts. At least not without reciprocation being expected."

"And you are not a slave," Sebastian reminded gently, and gave him a cheerful smile that should not have come considering how very often he kept telling Fenris that.

(Fenris appreciated that, also, even though he hated how he continuously needed the validation. He knew. It was just… it was just… a lot.)

"I used to be," he retorted. "I have come to know that if I receive something, I must pay for it in return. Even these markings were granted to me in response to my performance for Danarius." He couldn’t help but scowl down at his arms as he spoke. Hawke may have found beauty in these markings, but Fenris never would.

"That’s why you give a present in return," Sebastian said thoughtfully, pausing to look at wares at a stall. "Although you do not have to. Like I said, you are not a slave. You don’t owe anyone anything any longer. And I imagine Hawke won’t be so upset if you don’t give him anything, so long as he has your presence."

Fenris grunted, nose crinkling as he looked down the street. That sounded like something Hawke would say himself.

"You should talk to Hawke about this," Sebastian continued, glancing over his shoulder. "He wouldn’t make you do something that you’re uncomfortable with."

"I do not wish to burde-"

"You won’t be, trust me. Besides– I’ll take this here, please– Hawke probably likes to be burdened by you." He straightened up, reaching for his purse for coin. "That’s what you do in relationships. Give and take. As equals."

Now it was impossible to stop the almighty sigh from gusting between his lips. "You take great pleasure in being able to reiterate that, don’t you?"

The archer’s smile grew a little more sly, and there was the Sebastian that Fenris imagined must have been the troublemaker, the one that he had left behind in the past. Like Fenris, he wasn’t able to erase all traces of that past, but he seemed to manage just fine. Therefore, shouldn’t Fenris be able to, too? "I’m just telling you what you already know, Fenris." He collected his purchase and continued on his way, leaving Fenris to fall into step behind him.

Fenris resisted from rolling his eyes with only intense effort, and started to pad along after him. "You needn’t look so smug," he remarked, and pretended that he didn’t smile slightly at Sebastian’s boyish grin.

Maybe he was right. No. Fenris knew that he was right. It was a triviality, and he hadn’t wanted to bother Hawke about something as inane as Wintersend presents. It was important to Hawke… and yet, his own feelings were important to himself. And probably to Hawke, too, if he was honest. Hawke always worried about how Fenris felt, too. He would be doing them all a disservice if he didn’t talk it through with him, right? Right.

… It was a great deal easier said than done, but he would try to be more open with Hawke. He did deserve that for himself.

"Thank you," he said shortly, eyes directed straight ahead. "Sebastian."

Less boyish, and more genuine, a soft smile that matched the look in his eyes as the archer replied, "Any time, my friend".


End file.
